


Reignjas ficlets

by disappointingcroissant



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Ficlet Collection, Ill warn you if rating goes up by chapter, They kinda cuss a lot in my head so there’s that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:08:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28119684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disappointingcroissant/pseuds/disappointingcroissant
Summary: There’s fluff, there’s sex, theres smiles and softness and them pissing each other off. This fic series has everything I imagine reignjas being in all diff kinds  of situations.It’s official I guess, this is where I'll post my reignjas ficlets because that's a thing I write now?Also posting on mytumblrmini playlistto inspire a mood (la luna is the song they slow dance to).
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Arias/Andrea Rojas
Comments: 80
Kudos: 56





	1. in Argentina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mention of sex in this one

Sam sits watching Andrea from the table they shared over a late night drink. She’s out on a concrete dance floor, pulled out there by a young man who no doubt is a little cocky if he had the balls to ask a woman like Andrea to dance. Sam admires that, jealousy doesn’t even enter her mind. Plus, you don’t come to a club in Argentina and not expect to get your partner stolen from you.

They’re not necessarily celebrating. But their need to do something rash and get away from their busy lives did happen to coincide with that ill-advised kiss they shared in Andrea’s office a year ago, after an argument over Andrea being a backstabbing snake or Sam being ill-informed and hot-headed as usual, depending on who you asked. 

They were a long way from the trysts that followed and Sam’s been able to appreciate Andreas dancing a lot since then. She’s watched Andrea cooking from across the kitchen island, absentmindedly swaying her hips as she added ingredients to the pan. She’s been struck motionless, sitting on the edge of Andrea’s bed while her body gently seduced her. And, on the rare occasion they were able to make it out to a bar Andrea would dance up on Sam regardless of the presence of a dance floor, testing how long Sam could hold out until she dragged Andrea back to one of their places.

Sam’s always loved being allowed to see Andrea drop her public persona, and now that they’re far away from anyone that would know who they are Andrea is really letting loose. That combined with the soft lights strung above the dance floor and the beach backdrop Sam almost believes she’s dreaming. She denied her growing feelings toward Andrea for a long time, anyone with eyes would be attracted to Andrea after all, Sam just had an itch to scratch. Plus, Andrea never stopped being a pain in the ass despite their hookups. But tonight, tonight it just might be impossible to keep her desire to make Andrea hers, to herself.

Andrea makes eye contact with Sam, eyes bright and smile unrestrained. She has her back turned to her dance partner now, dancing a simple but no less sexy Cumbia. He’s a couple feet back admiring and as Andrea turns around to wave goodbye, never breaking her dance, he mimes being heart broken with his hands on his chest. A slower song starts up and without words Andrea pulls Sam from her seat and dances around her, when she makes it back around to Sam’s front Sam stops her with hands to her hips and moves Andrea’s body to follow her lead. Andrea raises an eyebrow at Sam’s boldness, but still let’s her have control as she takes Andreas' hand and twirls her around.

A few turns around the floor later Sam leans down to whisper in Andrea’s ear.

“He’s still staring at your ass.”

Andrea throws her head back in a care-free laugh, “Can you blame him?”

Later, when Sam is showing Andrea just how much she appreciated her dancing tonight, fucking her deep with one leg over her shoulder and a strong hand squeezing her thigh, she’ll let it slip how much Andrea means to her.

“Dios, finalmente,” Andrea replies with labored breaths after she comes down from high, “I thought I was going to have to fold and tell you first.”

Sam gives her her charmed smile, gently letting her leg down so she can lean over and brace herself above Andrea, “I didn’t know we were competing.”

“We’re always competing, love,” Andrea flips them over so she’s on top of Sam, kissing up her neck to playfully bite her ear “and I know, that you know, I need to make you come 3 more times to catch up tonight.”

Andrea pulls back and has that same dazzling smile from the dancefloor and for once Sam is all for losing to Andrea.


	2. at a gala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw brief unwanted touching

Sam did not grow up in this environment. Where Andrea had a prestigious boarding school education, cotillion classes and the advantages of being inside a circle of rich people. Sam was largely self taught, had farm chores and was a single mother by 16. That isn’t to say she couldn’t handle herself at the gala she found herself at tonight. But Andrea really was in her element.

Sam watched from afar as Andrea schmoozed with execs, laughing at their stupid jokes with a hand on their shoulder or gave the customary two cheek kisses to women and slipped seamlessly into whatever their native language was. Andrea has everyone's position and net worth memorized, she remembers family members and the goings on of almost everyone in this room. Sam was impressed despite the lifestyle of the rich being largely disgusting to her.

They weren’t at this event together. In fact Sam could’ve easily skipped it but she couldn’t deny the pull of seeing Andrea in a dress that she knew would hug her curves just right. The high likelihood she’d get to hike that dress up Andreas hips in some dark corner and strip her of all that composure may have also been an incentive. She’d never admit it of course.

Giving Andrea the satisfaction of knowing she held most (all) the cards was an idea Sam loathed, though she was almost certain Andrea knew. If that goddamn smirk after every time Sam made her fall apart on her fingers was any indication.

Sam was usually content doing her own mingling all the while keeping Andrea in her periphery but when she sees a grey haired old man slide a hand down to squeeze Andrea’s ass she stalks over immediately. By the time she gets there Andrea has already turned and slapped the man with a fierce “Excuse me?”, but beyond that she seems to freeze up. Sam steps between the two just in time to here the man mumble “Fucking tease,” under his breath. She whistles to security, because while Andrea was schmoozing the rich attendants Sam was getting to know staff working the event.

“Get this creep out of here, Frankie,” she directs the young man.

Without question and a slight smile he does as she says, ignoring the man's protests.

“Hey! What the fuck? Do you know who I am?”

Sam literally does not. And doesn’t care to. She’s already turned with concerned eyes to Andrea who seems to have gained some of her composure though it’s even more apparent that it’s a mask. Because while Andrea grew up in this environment, knowing how to navigate it has always been more of a chess move she held in her pocket rather than truly identifying with any of it.

“You alright?” Sam’s hands are stuck in mid air, reaching to comfort but aware of the few eyes still on them.

“Yeah, yeah,” Andrea replies with a little laugh to cover up any residual shock, “You shouldn’t have done that.”

She finally looks up at Sam (and God do those big brown eyes draw her in), silently communicating to drop it, that they’re still in public, and they haven't named this thing between them but it certainly isn’t public. Sam takes a step back, straightening out her jacket for something to do.

“Right.” They aren’t anything.

Sam walks away without another word and she knew their arrangement was just about satisfying urges, and she really doesn’t blame Andrea for what she's feeling, but she never expected the drop in her stomach at being dismissed to hurt this much.

Sam’s had enough of this night and heads straight for the town car waiting for her outside (yeah, she never claimed to not benefit from having money and connections now but she is better than these people, than _that man_ ). She’s warring inside between being absolutely furious with the man who put his hands on Andrea and at being brushed off. She slams the car door behind her, sends a curt “Home” to the driver and jerkily loosens her tie.

But instead of moving forward the car door opens again and there is Andrea, with a plea in her eyes. Sam can clearly read the _I’m sorry_ and _please_ and the _I need you_ in her shining eyes, and pouty lips. Sam scoots over with a huff, resentment melting away as Andrea tucks herself against Sam’s side.

That night is the first night Andrea goes to Sam’s home and they simply just lay together until they fall asleep.


	3. on Christmas Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the other side of the door is Sam. The kneejerk desire to get out in front of whatever interaction she’s about to have with a snarky remark is cut off at the sight of her. Sam is leaned against the door frame with snow in her hair, her cheeks are rosy from the cold wearing that sideways smile that makes Andrea’s stomach swirl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry crisis everyone!

Andrea is alone on Christmas Eve. Usually she is back in Buenos Aires with family, having an all day asado with relatives from around the world enjoying barbecue that hasn’t been matched by anything else she’s experienced in her life. The quintessential home for Christmas experience. 

But business has kept her in Metropolis. Fixing a mess that couldn’t be handled by anyone else but someone trusted, someone competent. In Andrea’s eyes, and proudly her father’s, she is the only one that fits the description.

She sits at her dining table alone, set for a formal dinner complete with candles that reflect in the windows displaying the snowy skyline in front of her, with food prepared by her chef. Never one to pass up the opportunity to capture a moody aesthetic, Andrea snaps a photo of the scene. She posts it on her story with ‘ _I’ll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams’_ , as the caption. It’s not pathetic if it’s song lyrics right? 

Turning on classical music on low in the background Andrea places her phone face down with the ringer off. She’s already spoken to family, and the few friends she truly cares for, no reason to be connected now. 

After dinner she changes into an oversized hoodie and leggings, because yes she did dress for the occasion despite being alone. She takes her time doing her face regimen, wiping away all the make-up, toning,moisturizing, using absurdly expensive products that come in 1 oz containers. She leans close to the mirror and runs a finger over her scar, a habit when she finds herself alone and contemplative. She’s kept the depressing, self-pitying thoughts at bay thus far tonight but something about staring in a mirror is bringing it to the surface.

Abruptly she leaves her en suite, grabbing the pulp novel she’s been reading on the way to the living room where an expensive looking fire is burning; blue flames with only the tips showing orange moving slowly over river stones. She pours herself a modest glass of wine and settles into the corner of the couch. She only gets 3 sentences in when her mind slaps her with the thought that having an ordinary day shouldn’t be so depressing just because it’s a holiday. It was a _good_ day, she made progress at work, she treated herself at lunch, was home early, got in a workout before dinner and is currently enjoying one of her favorite activities that she rarely has time for. So, yes, by all accounts it was a good day. Andrea drains the glass of wine, giving up any pretense of self control.

She goes to the kitchen to pour another and just as she tops it off, more full this time, there’s a knock on her door. 

“Who the fuck…” Andrea mumbles with a furrowed brow before looking down to gauge whether she’s presentable enough to open the door. Not really, not by her standards anyways but when she hears an “It’s me” through the door that question is answered.

On the other side of the door is Sam. The kneejerk desire to get out in front of whatever interaction she’s about to have with a snarky remark is cut off at the sight of her. Sam is leaned against the door frame with snow in her hair, her cheeks are rosy from the cold and she’s wearing that sideways smile that makes Andrea’s stomach swirl.

“Merry Christmas,” She lifts a gift wrapped box up and gives it a little shake. Andrea wonders if there’s something wrong with her when the first thing her mind jumps to is thinking Sam looks like she’s trying to tempt her pet dog with a treat.

“What are you doing here?”

“I have to make sure you open a gift on Christmas Eve, it’s tradition.”

And for whatever reason that makes Andrea blush. She looks down to the floor and steps back to let Sam into the apartment. She’s been here before but she still looks around. Andrea’s mind runs through a list of self-deprecating thoughts on what Sam could be thinking. She’s probably checking to see if Andrea truly is alone on Christmas Eve, or maybe she’s trying horribly to cover up the fact that she feels _sorry_ for Andrea. She knows Andrea hates that. 

When she snaps back to reality Sam is giving her a once over, “You look cute.”

Cute. Is not a word people use to describe Andrea Rojas. But coming from Sam it just makes her god forsaken blush deepen. _Is she a fucking school girl?_

They had come to a truce recently. It started with Sam simply asking “Can you just be nice?” and evolved into… whatever this is now.

“May I?” Sam indicates toward the kitchen where the open bottle of wine sits. She takes off her coat and grabs a glass at Andrea’s nod. She picks up Andrea’s glass too and heads to the living room couch without prompting. Andrea follows behind her.

“I saw your post.” 

Ah, yes, the post. Damn Andrea and her rash social media tendencies. 

“And so you came over? I could’ve been entertaining.”

“I had a hunch,” It’s said without malice or judgement, though Andrea certainly could twist it that way if she felt like it, but she’s tired of pretenses and she thinks this truce makes it so she can drop them. So maybe she could try something new tonight.

She slides over on the couch and without a word, because she’s not sure she has any that she’s willing to put out there, lifts up Sam’s arm and places it around her shoulder so she can tuck her head against Sams chest, legs drawn up to rest on Sam’s thigh, in a tight safe ball. It takes Sam a second to react, treating Andrea like a skittish kitten. But when it’s obvious this is what Andrea wants, what she needs, Sam squeezes her shoulder and places a lingering kiss to the top of her head. 

“Tell me about home.”

In contrast to the melancholy she felt earlier when thinking about home, sharing her traditions with Sam makes her feel warm. She tells her about the sweltering heat, and how the city has a chaotic energy the week leading up to the holiday, with locals standing in lines you wouldn’t believe the length of to buy pan dulce. Tonight ( _‘We call it Nochebuena’_ ), is the big event. They cook and eat and drink all day and night. She tells her about midnight mass at the Catedral Metropolitana and how even if you aren’t particularly religious it’s truly a divine experience just to be inside and surrounded by the art. At midnight church bells ring and fireworks are set off all over the city. 

She shares all this and all the while Sam drinks her wine and rubs Andrea’s shoulder, squeezing when Andrea gets particularly excited about something. Andrea doesn’t know when her hand drifted to Sam’s stomach, holding on to her shirt like a lifeline. Andrea looks up at Sam, studying her face, and wonders when Sam got to know her so well. How did she know how to navigate this night so that Andrea stopped wallowing? Who is this Sam and when did she stop being Lena’s bull-headed CFO who she may or may not have been slightly jealous of?

It doesn’t really matter, they’re here now and she doesn’t want to break whatever spell Sam successfully cast on this night. So instead she adjusts so that she can unfurl and lay her legs across Sam’s lap, hands circling her neck to play with the baby hairs there. She’s content and relaxed and this is not at all how she thought this night would go. Sam puts down her glass and takes hold of Andrea’s thigh, admiring her with a little knowing smirk that Andrea for once doesn’t want to wipe off her face. Instead she’s overcome with gratitude for Sam and leans in to show her thanks with a kiss.

It’s softer than kisses they’ve shared before, tentative, a simple press of lips before they pull apart. Sam’s eyes travel her face and she brings a hand up to trace the scar between Andrea’s eyes just as she had done earlier. 

“I love this,” Before Andrea can reply Sam is tilting her head and kissing her again, with intent. Andrea let’s herself believe it’s with the intent to possess her, to push out all the negative emotions and leave only room for _this_. Andrea gasps at the intensity of it.

Sam kisses her bottom lip and pulls back just enough to breath out, “And this, I love this.”

Sam’s expressed appreciation for her full lips before so Andrea’s almost certain that’s what Sam is talking about but it strikes her that Sam could be talking about something more. An urge overtakes Andrea and she maneuvers to straddle Sam’s lap. Sam leans back and admires the view, hands running up from Andrea’s thighs, under the hoodie to lightly grip at her ribs, scratching back down to settle on her hips. Andrea shivers at the touch and laughs just because.

“I think I should open my present first,” Sam says, drinking in Andrea, her meaning obvious but Andrea plays dumb anyways, lifts a brow in question, with that coy sexy way she has.

“Oh yeah? And what makes you so sure I got you one?”

“It’s sitting in my lap right now, all soft and tempting, ready to be unwrapped.”


	4. the morning after

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> well this is just a silly bit o speed writing about an image of Andrea kicking Sam out that I couldn't get outta my mind

“Hey. Hey!”

Sam wakes with a start at Andrea’s hushed yell and a shirt to the face.

“Time to get up. I need you out of here.”

“Good morning to you too,” Sam replies, voice gruff from sleep.

She takes the shirt away from her face and peeks an eye open to see Andrea rushing around the room collecting her other clothes. Belt just by the entrance to the bedroom, bra hanging off an armchair in the corner, pants and underwear flung against the far wall, and socks… 

“Where the fuck are you’re socks?”

It’s entirely endearing to Sam, who hasn’t moved a muscle.

Giving up, Andrea drops what she did find in a pile in front of Sam with a pointed brow and impatient hands on hips. Sam sighs and sits up to swing her legs over the side of the bed with the least amount of urgency humanly possible. To Andrea’s displeasure she even takes the time to stretch (not that Andrea minds the view per se but _how dare Sam disobey_.)

“Where’s the fire?” Sam asks as she finally gets up and starts to put on her clothes.

“Lucía is coming.”

Sam waits for her to elaborate but when nothing comes, “That explains absolutely nothing.”

“My cleaning person. Lucía,” Andrea says it all hautey as if Sam should know this.

Sam rolls her eyes as she zips up her pants, “And why exactly am I being hurried out of here because your cleaning person is here?”

“Because she doesn’t just work for me, she works for the whole family. And, she can't keep her mouth shut.”

Either Sam drank more than she thought she did last night or she’s having a harder time than usual shaking off sleep because she still doesn't get it. 

“And, that’s a problem beeecauuuuse…. you’re still in the closet?”

Sam slips on her button up and Andrea so wants to stop her as toned and tanned skin is covered up button by button, but _really_ can’t. She turns around lest her resolve crumble as it is wont to do around Sam; though it pains her to give Sam a reason to use that insufferable, knowing smirk she just _knows_ is present on that smug smug face.

“God, no, because it's you.” She injects a little extra venom into the statement to gain back some dignity.

“Wow, you really know how to woo a girl don't ya?”

“For Christ sake Sam get over yourself. You work for L Corp. L Corp is our competition.” 

As soon as Sam has the top button done up Andrea grabs her wrist and pulls her to the door, peaking out first to make sure the coast is clear. Seeing Andrea this worked up, muttering under her breath in Spanish, and frankly just a tad unhinged is really quite entertaining. It’s too good an opportunity to pass up messing with her.

“For someone so concerned with appearances I’d think you woulda thrown on some clothes yourself,” Sam’s dragging her feet behind Andrea enjoying the view of Andrea’s legs in a sinfully short silk robe, “but I suppose you were too busy watching me get dressed.”

Sam twists out of Andrea’s grip as they walk past the kitchen and veers away to grab an apple from the fruit bowl. 

“You know, actually I'm feeling quite used right now. Don’t know if I’ve ever been kicked out the morning after.”

There’s a commotion in the back of the apartment. Andrea’s head snaps in the direction of the sound and back to Sam so fast and tense it’s a wonder she doesn’t hurt herself. Sam, on the other hand, casually does the same taking a crunchy bite out of the apple when she makes eye contact with Andrea again. She looks absolutely devilish and Andrea doesn’t know if she’s pissed or turned on; a question that will forever remain between her and God.

“This might be an inappropriate time,” Sam starts with a glint in her eye that says she absolutely knows it’s an inappropriate time and raises her voice, “but last night you really were amazing in bed.'' Andrea lunges at Sam to try and get her to shut up but Sam darts out of the way and continues on in an even louder tone.

“I’m going to be thinking about it all day at work -”

They circle around the kitchen island until Andrea halts with her hands on the counter, trying to anticipate Sam’s next move. Sam doesn’t break eye contact as she tilts her head and nearly shouts in the direction of where Lucía presumedly is.

“At L CORP! Where I will be, because I WORK THERE.” 

Andrea’s eyes widen. 

Sam puts on a faux sheepish look and lowers her voice, “Oh, sorry, do you think she heard that?”

“Samantha Arias, si no haces lo que digo, lo juro por dios...” She’s seething and it really is too bad for her that Sam likes her that way because there really is no incentive to stop. But Sam isn’t _that_ cruel.

“Alright,” Sam puts her hands up in surrender and side steps her way to the front door, “I’m going.” Andrea stalks after her and grabs Sam’s jacket and shoes and shoves them into Sam’s chest pushing her through the door and slamming it in her face.

“Thanks for the sex!” Sam yells to the closed door.

Someone clears their throat down the hallway and Sam looks to see one of Andrea’s button-upped neighbors standing there with a disapproving glare.

“Mornin’,” She drawls and raises the apple still in her hand as if in a toast before taking another bite and turning on her barefooted heels to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> si no haces lo que digo, lo juro por dios = if you don’t do what i say, i swear to god


	5. on New Year's Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam foolishly asks Andrea out
> 
> A followup to Reignjas on Christmas Eve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year, gang :) writing these and getting feedback has been a nice way to end the year for me, thank you so much.

_Sam: Be my date?_

Andrea stares down at the text message not knowing what to think. Be her date. Date. Dating. Being coupley. Isn’t something that they do. Well, publicly. Because Christmas Eve sure had relationship written all over it. Just thinking about it has Andrea feeling nervous, excited and _dreadful_ all at once. She can’t handle it. So she doesn’t. She turns her ringer off and puts her phone away in a desk drawer.

It takes all of 10 seconds for her mind to go back to Sam. God the _gall_ she has to ask her on a date. To a LCorp New Year’s Eve party no less. _What is she even thinking?_ These things aren’t even _meant_ for dates; it’s all bullshit appearances and business. This is what Andrea get’s for being a pathetic, lonely, needy, mess. She’s never going to show another feeling in her life. Maybe she should delete her social media, too.

_Fuck_.

\--

Sam’s text has remained unanswered since she sent it this morning. She thought maybe something had changed on Christmas Eve. A shift to something more serious than just getting laid, but alas, she’s misread things. Alone at another corporate party it is, then. Her head hits the back of her chair in defeat.

She heaves a big sigh and tries to dispel the confusing feelings swirling around inside. Looking at her watch she sees it’s almost 6:00 PM and decides it’s a good time to wrap things up and head home to get ready.

\--

It’s when Sam is standing at the end of the gangplank to a preposterously large yacht that she is really regretting not faking a sickness. Lena would’ve seen right through it, but let it slide with minimal reprimanding as she does with Sam. Actually, she’s not stuck on the boat yet, if she just turns around now and…

“Sam! Hey Sam!”

Dammit. Sam halts mid turn at Kara’s call.

“You're here! Come on up, what are you waiting for? There’s potstickers!”

Kara is as bubbly as ever and making a scene waving at Sam from the top of the ramp. Sam gives her as enthused a smile and wave as she can muster.

“Yep, here I come.”

“Gosh Sam you look great! If I wasn’t already with Lena I might just try and pick you up! Just kidding. I mean, you do look good. Where’s this suit from? Actually you know what, don’t even tell me cause I can’t afford it.”

Sam does look good. She knows it because she actually spent time on this outfit, may have even bought it specifically for tonight, because she thought she was going to spend it with Andrea. It felt like such a sure thing, but then again maybe waiting till the morning of to ask was a dick move. Usually putting on a tailored three piece suit would put her in a good mood but it isn’t quite doing the trick tonight. Perhaps because she based the outfit around the matching tie clip, cufflinks and pocket square Andrea had given her for Christmas. 

“Thanks, Kara. I’m sure your sugar mama would buy you one.”

“Oh, pfffft, Sam. We don’t - I mean she - I like her for -”

“Relax Kara, it was a joke,” Sam chuckles as she pulls a flustering Kara in for a hug, “Now, let’s get me a drink.”

Ok, so this night isn’t a total bust. Turns out Lena invited all of Kara’s friends so Sam’s been able to have actually engaging interactions. Querl always has some new perspective on probability theory to share. Nia is just plain refreshing; the exact opposite of the narcissistic rich people they’re surrounded by. And there’s no one better to people watch with than Alex. Being anchored in the middle of the bay with a stunning view of the city isn’t half bad either.

Still, Sam finds herself stealing away to the top deck for a breather near the end of the night. She’s leaning against the railing with a champagne glass in hand, dangling over the water, as she takes in the night sky. It’s clear tonight, perfect for the fireworks that are about to happen any minute with the countdown to the new year. She supposes this is the part of the night you’re meant to be around people, but doesn’t move from her spot. She pulls out her phone, which she has successfully ignored up until now. Based on past behavior, she isn’t expecting a message from Andrea, but she can’t deny she is hoping for one. No luck. Sam has to roll her eyes at herself. 

“What are you doing moping over here by yourself?”

The voice is unmistakably Andrea’s but Sam doesn’t turn to confirm, stuck in a whirl of thoughts like What? When? Why? She feels a touch to her lower back, a hand trails up to land between her shoulders, and a warm body slides up next to her. Sam shivers despite herself.

“Hi, Sam.”

Andrea sounds _timid_. Which does nothing to help Sam get off her carousel of questions but she manages to put down her glass and straighten up and turn to Andrea. She’s wearing a simple black sheath dress that accentuates her figure. Make-up classy and understated except for pink lips. She looks absolutely stunning to Sam.

“What’re you doing here?” Sam hates that she doesn’t sound mad at Andrea.

“I have a date.”

Sam scoffs at that terrible line but it _works_ , she’s already loosening and ready to forget.

“Sorry I’m late,” Andrea continues, sounding genuinely apologetic.

Sam reaches out and returns Andrea’s touch with a hand to her waist, she playfully shakes her a little to try and dispel the apprehension Andrea’s carrying, her way of telling Andrea she’s off the hook without being asked.

“How’d you get here?” And then a possibility dawns on Sam, “Don’t tell me you’ve been here the whole time,” she’s almost ready to fight again, if only because old habits die hard.

“No, I haven’t been here the whole time. I’ve been at home. Going insane, thinking about you. Because that’s what you do to me, I guess,” Andrea says it like she doesn’t like it, “and I have a yacht of my own. Obviously. So, I came.”

_God_ she looks so uncomfortable confessing all this and Sam _loves_ it.

“Oh, so, you whipped up a whole crew to take you to some unknown location on New Year’s Eve just so you could go on a date with me? You know, it would’ve been simpler if you just said yes 6 hours ago.”

“Sam I swear I’ll leave if you make a big deal out of this,” Andrea pulls back and gives Sam a death glare to drive her point home.

“Okay, okay. I give, don’t go.”

Sam squeezes her waist, reaches up to cup Andrea’s cheek and rubs her thumb back and forth, a gesture she knows from experience will calm Andrea. Indeed her whole body relaxes as she looks up at Sam through thick lashes.

The moment is broken by a whistle and an explosion of color in the sky. Andrea jumps a little and Sam tries poorly to hold in a grin at the cuteness of it. Andrea slaps her shoulder in warning and it only serves to widen Sam’s smile before she pulls Andrea in for a kiss. The world shrinks down to just the two of them as the fireworks continue. Andrea can see the bursts of light behind closed eyes and feels a bit like bursting herself. Sam holds her close with strong hands on her back and it’s not close enough. Andrea gets why people compare kisses to fireworks so often now because _fuck_ Sam is dazzling. Her insides are tumbling and that moment when Sam pulls back the tiniest bit to whisper her nose against her own and Andrea can _feel_ her smile, and it makes her hold her breath, it's just like the moment between the whine and bang of a firecracker. It’s all waterfalling around her to the point where she feels like she’s going to shatter.

They part only to breathe and Andrea takes in the lights playing across Sam’s face and how they twinkle in her eyes. And, _God_ she’s so annoyed with herself for being so cheesy. 

“Do Not say happy new year right now,” she’s has to say something caustic to redirect this into something a tad more familiar, so sue her.

Sam just smiles and laughs and looks like a dope and still Andrea takes her hand and drags her to the little boat waiting to take them back to her yacht.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (and then they bang)


	6. in Andrea gets what she wants RATED E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RATED E  
> The smut chapter is here. In which Andrea's denied the opportunity to piss Sam off so she goes looking for it.
> 
> Shout out to sten06 for letting me borrow the idea of these two using their power and influence to dig up personal information about the other. this is now an official reignjas trope we should use over and over again.

Andrea notices Sam’s absence right away. This is a meeting between LCorp and Obsidian to discuss a possible collaboration, something a chief financial officer should attend, surely. Fifty percent of Andrea’s prep for this meeting may have been imagining possible ways to argue with Sam, how to cut her down to size, humiliatingly. She had a list of fake concerns she planned to lob Sam’s way just to see how she’d react, you know, make her work for it. And now. Now that was all ruined and it leaves Andrea feeling on edge and pissy. Before things can really get under way she has to have some sort of answer.

“And where is your trusty minion, Ms. Arias, Lena? Do we not get the benefit of hearing her analysis today?”

Lena looks up from the papers she was studying with a curious look and Andrea feels like she can see right through her. Drawbacks of doing business with an ex she supposes.

“Ms. Arias had a family matter to attend to, but I assure you I have a total grasp on the financials.”

Lena’s face returns to one of neutrality ( _ damn Luthor stoics _ ) and Andrea has gleaned absolutely nothing from her reply. To her horror, she actually feels a twitch of worry for Sam. She brushes it off as a reaction she would have for anyone, she does possess the ability to empathize despite appearances afterall. 

Andrea is off kilter the rest of the meeting. She leaves with not much more of an understanding of LCorp’s proposal than when she went in; she’ll have to rely on her team's debrief later. For now she heads to her office at Obsidian, requests that her secretary hold all calls and visits and contemplates her next move.

All this built up  _ fight _ and nothing to do with it. 

“Pamela, get me Sam Arias’s address,” her finger is barely off the intercom button before she presses it again, “discreetly.”

\--

Andrea checks her lipstick in the visor mirror of her car (she was  _ not _ going to have a driver witness her being here). She had put in the address to her maps app without really looking at the destination point and was surprised halfway through the trip when she realized she was going to the suburbs. She checks the house out as she walks up the front walkway; typical, boring, simple. Fitting, she supposes and again has to question why the fuck she’s attracted to Sam. There’s a welcome mat with a hedgehog on it at the door and Andrea almost considers turning around right then. She knocks instead.

It takes a minute, which Andrea spends uncharastically fidgeting with her purse straps. Some of the heat from earlier has gone and she doubts every decision that’s led her here. She steels herself when she hears someone approaching from behind the door. And even though it’s who she’s come for she’s taken aback at the sight of Sam. Gone is the composed business woman facade; no suit, no strict posture. In its place there’s Sam in joggers and a sweatshirt looking weary and upset. There’s a long moment where they just take each other in. Sam’s the one who breaks the silence.

“I’m not in the mood for,” she waves her hand in a vague circle at Andrea, “whatever this is.”

Andrea’s at a loss. What was she expecting really? She knew Sam had something personal to deal with. She realizes just how caught up in…  _ getting _ Sam she was that she really didn’t think this through at all.

“You weren’t at the meeting,” Andrea tries to make it sound accusatory, because she is  _ not _ concerned. It’s lame, and doesn’t make sense but it’s the first thing that comes to Andrea’s mind.

Sam’s disbelief is written all over her face and now Andrea feels crazy, she needs to reel this in  _ quick _ .

“Yeah, I uh,” Sam pauses, weighs how much to share, “my daughter had an accident on a school trip.”

Daughter.

_ Daughter _ .

Sam has a daughter.

“You have a daughter,” where is Andrea’s patented wit and aloofness when she needs it?

“Yeah, Andrea, I have a daughter,” Sam’s getting annoyed, “and she’s thousands of miles away, hurt, and I have to just sit and wait here.”

It’s said with more emotion than Sam wants to give away. Not in front of Andrea anyways.

“Is she okay?” Andrea does not want to ask. Kind of wants to go back to not knowing this daughter existed. She’s not heartless but, it’s just too much. Not at all what she was expecting. And, fine, she’s selfish. But she  _ wants _ to be selfish, because if she gets what she wants, gets her hands on Sam. Then she could wipe away that worry the best way she knows how.

“She’s fine,” Sam looks like she’s reaching that point where she’s going to walk away and that’s not what Andrea wants. She has to get what she came here for and Sam shouldn’t be alone right now. Not that she  _ cares _ .

“Well, then, I can take your mind off things?”

Sam is unimpressed and not convinced.  _ Dammit _ , Andrea’s out of her depth here.

“Really, Andrea? I’m a little preoccupied. How did you get my address anyways?”

“You just said there’s nothing for you to do. Let me inside,” she says it with a little more authenticity, ignoring Sam’s questions. She pushes forward, forcing Sam to step back so they finally cross the threshold.

She drops her bag and closes the door behind her with a push of her foot, pins Sam to the nearest surface. Sam doesn’t put up a fight, evidently coming around to Andrea’s idea that letting off steam might be a good idea right now. Andrea is settling into her element now, but her hands are resting on Sam’s chest, they’re close, and Sam’s all vulnerable. It’s a more intimate situation than she normally allows so she reaches up to pull Sam down and kisses her hard to move this along. 

She bites Sam’s lip to get her to react because Sam’s hands have been held in the air in indecision and Andrea wants them on her body  _ now _ . It does the trick and Sam grabs her hips and pulls Andrea flush with her body forcefully. They moan in unison at the contact. Andrea can feel all that energy and tension Sam has been holding in today being channeled into this, into her. And,  _ yes, good. _

“You were supposed to be there today. So I could undermine you in front of all those people, get you riled up.”

Sam grasps her waist and spins them around, presses Andrea into the wall and Andrea wishes she wasn’t wearing this tight dress. She wants Sam to lift her up, wants to wrap her legs around Sam’s waist and feel that delicious friction.

“Seems like you put a lot of thought into this,” Sam says it in that superior way she has and Andrea’s starting to let go of the idea that she’ll gain control of this situation and that's  _ fine _ if Sam keeps nipping up her neck and pushing into her like there is no close enough. 

“Shut up and take me to your bedroom,” it’s said right next to Sam’s ear and does the trick because Sam looks hungry and Andrea’s whole body lights up as Sam pulls her upstairs.

Sam kisses her into her room almost harshly pushing her backwards with hands on her hips. Andrea’s having a hard time catching her breath, needs to pull Sam's face away and direct her down. Sam goes willingly, dragging her lips down Andrea’s neck, breathing in her expensive perfume. 

“You’re absurd, you know that?” Sam bites where her neck meets her shoulder to emphasize her point, “Coming here to what?” Her hands are slowly working at the zipper at the back of Andrea's dress, finger tips following the line of bare skin as it’s exposed, “You think I don’t see through you?”

Sam tugs down the dress until it pools at her feet, helps her out of her shoes. Sam’s hands urge her back and the bed is there so she falls none too gently and definitely not gracefully. Sam has this way about her, of being rough but  _ controlled _ so that she is both creating the risk and keeping Andrea safe from it.  _ And what the fuck does that even mean?  _ Sam stands at the edge of the bed taking in Andrea’s strappy black lingerie.

“Did you wear that for me?” 

And,  _ Yeah. She did.  _ But Andrea’s not going to  _ say that. _ Sam  _ must _ know that.

Sam leans down and grabs ahold of Andreas's waist so she can push her further up the bed, but she pulls back and that is not what Andrea wants. She wants to feel her weight, she wants her close.

“Touch yourself, put a show on for me,” Sam puts her hands to Andrea’s bent legs and spreads them, “that’s what you wanted this morning right? Get me all worked up?”

Andrea can’t handle the building tension in her body, squirms a little. Sam's voice is rough and her eyes feel like a physical touch as they travel Andrea’s body down and back.

“You want me to ruin you.”

_ Fuck _ .  _ Yes _ . That's exactly what she wants. She almost wants to resist, but she knows Sam will draw this out if she does. So, she runs fingertips slowly down her body until they slip under her underwear. She wants so badly to know what Sam’s thinking. Is she pissed that Andrea’s here, that this is working, that Andrea’s getting what she wants? Or is her mind more focused on what’s in front of her. Andrea hopes it’s the second one. Hopes Sam is feeling building electricity crackling over her skin making her hyper sensitive, just like how Andrea feels. 

Sam’s eyes are having a hard time choosing where to focus. Andrea’s wet and Sam can tell by noise alone. Andrea get’s one win in when Sam doesn’t last nearly as long as she thought she would. Andreas' legs make way as Sam bears down on her. She rocks down, Andrea’s hand still working between her legs and Sam’s weight adds a sinful push to her clit. Andrea drops her head back against the pillow and lets out an embarrassing moan. Sam is kissing her again before she can catch up with the moment and Andrea feels dizzy. Sam is a _good_ _kisser_ , take your breath away and make you forget kisser. She sucks on Andrea’s tongue just enough, bites her lip the barest amount pulling back before letting go then teases the seam of her lips with her tongue before she overcomes Andrea again. 

Sam scratches her nails down Andrea’s body and it causes a full body shudder. She pulls Andrea’s hand away and replaces it with her own and Andrea has never been so relieved. Finally the tension, the building charge turns into a succumbing to Sam’s touch.

She’s already close. _How_ _embarrassing_.

Her hands clutch the pillow beneath her head and she can’t keep up with Sam’s lips any more, has to break away. Sam breathes against her taut neck; hot and sensuous, panting “Feel so good”. Andrea’s body isn’t her own as she shamelessly chases release, rocking up. Sam’s hips meet her perfectly, her finger’s stroke fully, before returning to circle her clit and she presses and presses and presses until Andrea’s coming. It lasts, pushed on by Sam’s now still fingers and the unconscious gentle wave of hips. 

Andrea comes down with heaving breaths and Sam rolls off her to catch her own.

After a moment's silence Sam wonder’s aloud, “Is that what you had in mind when coming up with your plan this morning?”

“Something like it, yeah,” it’s exactly what she wanted but Andrea’s never one to give everything away. They lay there for a second more, staring at the ceiling and letting their bodies cool before Andrea continues, “but you’re still completely dressed and I believe in need of taking your mind off things. Any ideas how I can help?”

“I have a couple,” and Andrea will admit this once that Sam’s smirk is a little charming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so was it weird that the smut chapter is also the one where i bring up ruby? halfway through writing it i was like is this...wrong?
> 
> let me know how i did bc smut is taxing and after awhile youre like fuck it! post it!


	7. in a bad holiday porno RATED E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An E rated follow up to Reignjas on Christmas Eve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love you all thanks for reading!

_PREVIOUSLY ON THESE TWO:_

_“I think I should open my present first,” Sam says, drinking in Andrea, her meaning obvious but Andrea plays dumb anyways, lifts a brow in question, with that coy sexy way she has._

_“Oh yeah? And what makes you so sure I got you one?”_

_“It’s sitting in my lap right now, all soft and tempting, ready to be unwrapped.”_

\----

It’s corny is what it is, like they’re in a bad holiday porno. But looking down at Sam, with her faux cocky smile, one that says she knows how stupid that line was. Andrea absolutely doesn’t care, it just makes her want to kiss Sam even more. She cups Sam’s cheeks, says “That was the absolute worst,” and brings their lips together again, kisses her slow and thorough. Sam hums into the kiss, like she knows what’s coming, knows Andrea wants her.

Andrea pulls back the slightest bit, lips whispering across Sam’s, “Take me to bed.” Sam grabs her ass and hoists her up playfully and does as Andrea says.

Sam places her gently, gently on the bed and immediately hooks her fingers in the waistband of her leggings and underwear and takes them off in one smooth motion. She runs her hands back up Andrea’s legs right up under her shirt and crawls until she’s kneeling between her legs with her fingers lightly brushing up and down her sides.

“You’re so soft,” she says with awe in her voice and Andrea’s getting hot under her attention.

“Get down here,” She pulls her down and Sam comes easily, lightly resting her weight on top of Andrea. Andrea is seesawing between wanting to savor Sam’s tender touch and slow kisses, and urging Sam on to just take her already. Her mind is made up when Sam brushes the side of her breast and desire shoots right through her. She lets out an involuntary whimper and feels Sam smirk against her lips. She pushes Sam back, feigning exasperation, and takes off her hoodie and shirt, trying to look stern. _She isn’t needy._

Sam starts to lean down again, but is stopped by Andrea’s foot to her chest.

“You’re overdressed,” She tugs on Sam’s pants, “quítate.”

Sam backs up off the bed to undress, not breaking eye contact as she asks, “Wanna use a toy tonight?” and _God_ she’s so damn attractive with her easy confidence, just standing there naked in front of her like she isn’t starting a fire inside Andrea.

“Sure, dealer’s choice.” Guess it’s just the night for corny lines, then.

Sam walks over to where she knows Andrea keeps her toys and goes immediately to the strap on; Andrea wonders if this was her plan all along. Andrea takes the time to admire Sam’s body as she concentrates on getting the harness on; broad shoulders and defined forearms, those little dimples on her lower back, the black leather sitting just above her exquisite ass and hugging her thighs making her all the more enticing. She goes back into the drawer and pulls out two dildos, holding them up to Andrea in silent question. The black, thick, ribbed one or the skinnier but longer one? Andrea gives the smallest nod to the left, choosing the thicker one and Sam nods like that’s what she thought she’d choose. Lastly Sam grabs the base attachment that fits perfectly to press more directly against her clit. She must be sensitive already because she kind of gives a little pleasurable exhale when she puts it on and positions it right.

Finally she’s back on the bed with Andrea and why did that feel like it took forever? It’s built up an urgency in both of them and suddenly Sam is next to her, mouth hot against her chest, skimming her breast to cover her nipple. Andrea arches into the touch of her tounge, hands burying in Sam’s hair. Sam sucks, and licks, and brushes her lips against her and none of it lasts long enough. Andrea’s hands tighten in her hair to try and convey her frustration but Sam just moans against her and keeps _teasing_ . Which, ok, admittedly Andrea has told she likes being teased in the past but… not _now_ . She can hear Sam’s voice in her head from another time, _‘Speak plainly, Andrea. Tell me what you want’_.

“Sam,” how is she already this breathless, “Please, need you inside.”

And that must be plain enough because Sam drops her forehead down against Andrea’s shoulder and moans against it, Andrea’s words hitting her like a freight train making her hips jog, pressing the strap against Andrea’s thigh. In the next moment she’s cupping Andrea, fingers slipping down and back up while she half kisses half pants up Andrea’s neck. Everytime they come together Andrea is surprised by how much touching and hearing Andrea works Sam up, it’s as if Andrea’s already touching her, in turn it heightens everything Andrea’s feeling in an euphoric feedback loop. 

Andrea’s mind blanks as Sam pushes in two fingers, pressing against her walls, stretching her, getting her ready. Andrea appreciates it, she really does. She _did_ pick the thicker dildo afterall. But god she just wants it already. She gets her hands on Sam’s cheeks again and directs her to her lips, kissing her desperately and ok maybe she lets herself get caught up in Sam’s touch because she just keeps kissing her and letting out these shaky breathes and _weak_ noises. She’s so so weak for Sam. And her sweet fingers, now pulling out and massaging up to circle her clit. And, _oh god_.

“Fuck, Sam. I’m going to come.”

“Then come,” Sam sounds just as wrecked as her and Andrea notices she’s still rocking against her. Sam presses just a little harder against her clit and it’s all Andrea needs to go over the edge, grabbing Sam’s forearm tight, a signal Sam has learned means Andrea wants her to stop moving, to just press against her right where she is. Andrea softens back against the bed trying to catch her breath and soak in the afterglow. When she recovers she looks over to see Sam’s staring at her, but not in an afterglow way, in an _I wanna eat you_ way. 

She nudges Sam onto her back and straddles her thighs, taking her in; the messy hair, eager eyes, the tensing of her ab muscles giving away how wound she is. Andrea reaches over to the lube on the night stand and puts a dollop into her palm. She slicks up the strap, and Sam’s eyes shut on the down stroke, breath hitching at the instant pleasure blooming from the contact.

“Mírame _,”_ Sam doesn’t know much Spanish but she knows this one, knows Andrea’s asking her to look at her and when she opens her eyes Andrea lifts up and eases down onto the strap, “don‘t move.“

The visual, the command, the feeling is overwhelming and it takes everything Sam has to not close her eyes again. Andrea starts up a slow rhythm with her hips and Sam’s hands reach for Andrea’s thighs, squeeze tight as if it’ll somehow help her to remain still. Andrea’s putting on a bit of a show, hands dragging up her own body to touch where Sam can’t reach, slow and tortuous. Sam licks her lips, looking absolutely ravenous now. The wave of Andrea’s body riding her is captivating.

Andrea can feel the tension radiating off Sam and decides to take pity, drops her hands down to brace against Sam’s ribs, looking right at her when she says, “Fóllame _,”_ Sam knows that one too, knows it well by now. With a rush of relieved breath she rocks up into Andrea. Andrea’s mouth drops open with a filthy moan and she chases her pleasure rolling down into Sam’s thrusts.

Sam’s clit is getting hit just right every time they meet. Her head falls back and her eyes close tight again, her body focuses on how to prolong this bliss and she loses herself in it until it overtakes her completely. Andrea feels Sam bend and snap beneath her, keeps grinding until she follows her moments later, collapsing down onto her chest. They continue to rock against each other, riding out every last sweet feeling.

Andrea rolls off Sam so she can take the harness off only to return, half on top of Sam, as soon as she’s back lying down. They’re sweaty, and a little sticky, and a lot spent. It’s long minutes later, when Sam is almost asleep, when Andrea says, “Thank you for coming over.”

Sam hums and sleepily rubs her back, “Had to get my gift.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAN i am rusty writing smut.  
> quítate - take off  
> Mírame - look at me  
> Fóllame - fuck me


	8. in gift giving and cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrea gives Sam a gift and invites her over to bake and it leads to revealed feelings. It's sappy and they cute.

_ Andrea: I’ve got something for you.  _

Sam gets the text just as she’s exiting a meeting, smiles down at her phone as she thinks of what Andrea could possibly have gotten. 

_ Sam: Is it a nude pic? _

She laughs to herself, imagines Andrea’s annoyed reaction to her  _ “stupid, adolescent comment” _ as Andrea would call it.

_ Andrea: You’re incorrigible. _

Andrea doesn’t offer up any more information, which is unsurprising, but before Sam can needle her for more information she gets to her office and sees a nondescript, small black box on her desk. She pauses, staring down at it. A number of things go on in her head; not the least of which is that mysterious little boxes that show up out of nowhere at L Corp should be regarded with care. Sam isn’t exactly a high profile target though, she’s not Lena afterall and she trusts their security measures. She looks down at her phone again. Is this the something Andrea got her? They haven’t really exchanged gifts before if you don’t count that time Andrea got her a vibrator when she was going to be out of town for awhile and told her she couldn’t use it unless they were on the phone together. 

_ Sam: Does this something have anything to do with the box sitting on my desk right now? _

_ Andrea: Open it _

Sam settles in her chair and regards the box. It’s a clamshell package, the kind jewelry comes in and Sam can’t help that her heart speeds up the tiniest bit. It’s been a long while since anyone has given her a piece of jewelry. She opens it slow, takes in a sharp breath and lets her mouth stay open in shock as the lid snaps into place, showing off a stunning watch. It’s understated in its elegance, white dial, simple display, large polished steel case with a chocolate-brown alligator strap. Sam runs a finger across the face, reads the name “Baume & Mercier” and she feels something funny in her stomach. Sam’s somewhat of a watch collector. It’s not necessarily about the brand or value of a watch, she’s drawn to design, intrigued by the tiny mechanisms. It’s the type of obsession she has trouble not spewing about to others and “Baume & Mercier'' is a company she definitely mentioned to Andrea, but it was  _ months _ ago now, and she didn't really think Andrea was listening. What’s more is this watch, this watch is exactly her taste. Classic with a modern twist in the blue hour, minute and second hand detail.

She delicately takes the watch out of its box and puts it around her wrist when her phone buzzes.

_ Andrea: Do you like it? _

She loves it. Not just because it’s beautiful, but it’s thoughtful, and from Andrea. Andrea who is the one that’s been resisting making this thing between them anything serious. Sam had been dropping hints lately, she didn’t think Andrea was picking any of them up, but maybe she’s wrong. Maybe this watch is Andrea dropping one of her own. Of fucking course they can’t just talk plainly about it. 

_ Sam: I love it, but what did I do to deserve such a gift? _

_ Andrea: I just like the idea of you wearing something I gave you. _

_ Sam: Staking your claim huh? _

_ Andrea: Something like that. _

That doesn’t give much away as far as Andrea’s motives and Sam sits back in her chair, sighing. A few minutes pass with Sam just staring down at her wrist contemplating what to do with all this, no doubt overthinking it, when she’s interrupted by her office door opening and a distracted Lena walking in looking down at her phone.

“Sam. I need you to find me -” Lena cuts herself off as soon as she looks up. As soon as she sees Sam's face, which Sam has no clue what she looks like but she knows she’s never been very good at hiding what’s going on with her from Lena. Lena looks around for clues, spots the empty box on Sam’s desk, scans her body until she lands on the watch. While Sam and Andrea seem to have a communication problem, Lena has never really had a problem being direct with Sam. 

“What’s this?” Her business demeanor is dropped instantly for her playful gossipy best friend role.

“I’ve been seeing Andrea and she just sent me this beautiful watch and I don’t know what it means,” Sam rushes out.

And, the thing is, Lena doesn’t know about her and Andrea and Sam really wanted to say anything but the truth, think on her feet and come up with something to explain her pensive mood and the gift but it just slips out, almost like she’s dying for a friend to talk to about all this. So much so that she forgets exactly which friend is in front of her, and how that friend used to date Andrea. Then the guilt she’s been carrying around because of not telling Lena about this whole thing hits her and she seizes.

“You - what?”

“I’ve been seeing -”

“Rhetorical, Sam,” Lena cuts her off with a hand in the air.

This is  _ not _ how she wanted to tell Lena. Sam’s sweating where she sits, she looks around the room for - what? She doesn’t know she just can’t look at Lena, the disappointment, the betrayal, the - 

Laughter.

Lena’s laughing. 

Like, has to sit down, having a hard time catching her breath, hand on belly, laughing.

“You? And Andrea? Oh my  _ God _ ,” Lena can hardly get the words out around her laughter.

Sam’s body falls slack in relief and she just stares at Lena, who is now silent laughing.  _ Well, this is… good? Right? She’s not mad, she’s just - laughing and - wait, what the fuck is so funny? _

“Um, so, you aren’t mad?”

“Mad? Why would I be mad? I’m a little  _ confused _ that you even felt the need to hide this from me, but not mad. Also, I thought you hated her?”

Right then Sam get’s another text and she can’t help but check it.

_ Andrea: Come over tonight. _

And Sam’s cheeks heat up for no fucking reason and Lena laughs some more.

“Oh, you have it bad.” 

\--

This day has been a weird one, Sam's emotions were all over the place while she still had to make it through her packed work day. It didn’t give her much time to think things with Andrea through and now here she stands in front of her door just now realizing that  _ Lena knows _ , and Andrea and her had an understanding that  _ no one _ would know. So, once again Sam is sweating because of a dilemma of her own making. Despite the strong urge to fake an illness and turn around and leave, she knocks.

Andrea answers the door and luckily Sam is immediately distracted because Andrea is in an  _ apron _ . She’s wearing it over a tank top so all Sam sees is very kissable skin. It’s partially covered in flour and Sam’s worries completely disappear as she notices a bit of flour on Andrea’s face as well. 

“Don't even say it. I am  _ not _ cute,” Andrea warns, but there’s a softness behind the threat and her lips quirk up along with the smile spreading across Sam’s face.

“Nope, not you. Sexy as hell, tough and to be taken seriously at all times,” Sam replies, crossing over the threshold, leaning down to give Andrea a peck on the cheek at the same time as she wipes the mess from her face. Andrea sees Sam is wearing the watch she gave her and reaches out to delicately hold Sam’s wrist.

“Looks good on you.”

Sam kisses her again, this time on the forehead, “It’s perfect, thank you,” and there’s a silent moment where things feel warm and right, the butterflies in Sam’s stomach kicking up. She moves further into the apartment before she can give herself away.

Sam fits in comfortably at Andrea’s place by now. It's been nearly 6 months now since they first kissed. Sam even keeps a change of clothes and toiletries here. If you had told her at the start of this that that would happen she would’ve laughed in your face. But here she is now, easily finding the wine glasses and picking out what bottle to enjoy tonight from Andrea’s wine fridge.

“And what’s going on here?” Sam waves her hand around the kitchen where more evidence of baking is strewn about, “Did you invite me over to bake?”

“As a matter of fact, I did.”

Andrea looks so at ease tonight. Sam is transfixed as she takes off the apron and Sam gets a proper look at her in sweatpants. None of this is really a look Sam is used to and she has to clear her throat and shake herself out of it.

“And what are we making?”

“Alfajores, Argentina’s national cookie, if that were a thing. I got the messy part out of the way, so now you get to help me bake and assemble,” Andrea turns to the counter where rolled out cookie dough already lays and hands Sam a cookie cutter, “Here, punch these out.”

“So bossy.”

Andrea just hums in response as she checks on the dulce de leche on the stove, deeming it the right color. Sam stares at her for a second, taking in the sight of Andrea running a hand through her chestnut hair to get it out of her face, which is adorably crinkled in concentration. She’s singing along to whatever song is playing under her breath and Sam wonders how many people have been granted the privilege of seeing one of the most powerful women in National City be so  _ soft _ . She snaps out of it when Andrea asks her how her day was and turns back around to start on the cookies, playing at nonchalance when she answers.

Andrea comes over to help spread the cookies out evenly over the sheet pans and while they bake Sam cleans up the mess and Andrea teases her that she couldn’t handle leaving it, and throws a small bit of flour her way; it’s all very domestic. 

Sam’s been so engrossed in their task that she hasn’t even thought about the question of how serious she and Andrea were becoming, and if they’re on the same page about it, not to mention the little thing about letting their relationship slip to Lena. And now the cookies are coming out of the oven and Andrea is telling her they have to cool before they assemble so now is the perfect time to bring up what’s been on her mind, rip it off like a band aid. She knows approaching Andrea directly is the best, most mature thing to do, but she could very easily scare Andrea off that way. Andrea on the other hand has other things on her mind, decides the best way to pass the time is to press Sam up against the counter.

“You’ve been awfully contemplative this evening,” Damn, Sam thought she’d been hiding it. Andrea pulls her down and brings their lips together before Sam has the chance to answer. Her tongue tickles across Sam’s lips before sweeping inside. The needy sound that comes from the back of Sam’s throat is out of her control and she responds on instinct, pulling at Andrea’s waist to bring her closer. Andrea’s hands are untucking her shirt and making their way under to lay flat on her abs and Sam’s whole body is suddenly on alert and  _ craving _ .  _ God why weren't they doing this sooner _ .

Oh. Right, they need to talk. If Sam wants to be unburdened they have to. She summons up the courage to push gently on Andrea’s hips to get her to take a step back. Andrea looks up at her quizzically with an annoyed pout and it takes a lot for Sam to not take that bottom lip between her teeth. 

“Hey, um, there’s something I need to tell you,” it’s not a great way to start this conversation if Andrea’s facial expression is anything to go by, eyebrow arched and a hint of preparing for a fight in her eye. Sam rushes on, “It’s not bad. Sorry. That - Ok, I’m just gonna go ahead and say it and just please don’t be mad,” again, not the best wording, whatever, “So you know how you got me that watch? And I opened it at work? And I love it, by the way, if I didn’t say that, it’s gorgeous and exactly what I would’ve picked out for myself.”

Andrea is getting impatient, takes a step back and crosses her arms over her chest and Sam feels like she’s crashing and burning and this isn’t even the harder of the two things she has to talk to Andrea about.

“Well, Lena walked in right after I had opened it. And, I loved it so much that I couldn’t keep that stupid giddy expressiom off my face so she knew something was up. And, I don’t know, I was just caught off guard and my brain couldn’t come up with anything to say,” Sam takes a breath and looks Andrea in the eye, “Anything but the truth, that is.” 

Sam watches as Andrea processes what she’s said. Her arms fall to her sides and she looks off to the side, takes what feels like a long time to think about it. Her mouth forms a thin line and when she looks back at Sam she shakes her head. Sam doesn’t know how to interpret that and she gets this desperate feeling inside.

Andrea let’s out a big exhale and Sam braces herself for what she’s about to say,preparing to get kicked out.

“Dammit Sam,” Sam’s whole body deflates and Andrea turns away her hands becoming more animated as she goes on, “This is when I get pissed, because I really don’t like not having control. And, God do I feel like I don’t have control. Normally, I’d pick a fight. This is the perfect thing to deflect away from -,” Andrea cuts herself off, “To hide behind.”

Andrea looks frustrated and resigned and Sam doesn’t know what to make of it all.

“I don’t know what you’ve done to me. ‘Cause I don’t want to be mad at you. I don’t want to hide despite it being all I know how to do. And, I don’t care that Lena knows. I kind of want everyone to know. I want to go out with you, and show you off, and buy you nice things,” Andrea steps closer again and takes Sam’s hand to look at her watch, “And make you  _ mine _ ,” she softens for the shortest second before, “And it’s fucking terrifying.”

She pushes lightly at Sam’s stomach as if in retaliation for making her feel all this and Sam is stunned. She didn’t think Andrea would not care let alone make herself vulnerable and be the one to bring up making this thing between them  _ more _ . 

She must take too long to react because Andrea tucks her fingers into Sam's waistband and pulls and says,“Sam Arias if you don’t say something right this second I swear I’m going to give in to my instincts and start throwing things.”

Sam laughs at that and the tension falls away. She pulls Andrea into her and hugs her close, “I’ve been yours for awhile now Andrea.”

Andrea melts at her soft tone, tucks her face into Sam’s neck and breathes in her comforting scent as Sam squeezes her tighter in return, nuzzling the top on her head. They stay like that for some time before Andrea pulls back and kisses Sam quick before turning away to gather the cooled cookies. And just like that they’re okay, and the big talk is done with and it’s so  _ them _ Sam thinks. 

Halfway through assembling the cookies Andrea let’s Sam suck dulce de leche off her finger and things get derailed for a couple hours and any words left unsaid are revealed in the way they come together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3


End file.
